


The Long Fall

by Salut_Hurricane



Series: Wings in the Wind [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-21
Updated: 2016-06-21
Packaged: 2018-07-16 12:29:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7268308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Salut_Hurricane/pseuds/Salut_Hurricane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"...Their quarrel turned to rage and their violent struggle darkened skies until the Dragon of the South Wind struck down his brother, who fell to Earth, shattering the land..."</p><p>An attempt to write about the Shimada brothers and the confrontation that led to Genji's death.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Long Fall

**Author's Note:**

> Um. I put this up on my Tumblr and since Ao3 has the most logical setup for working on this series, I'm coming here to put this one and all future installments up. Hi. Don't mind me and my butchering of canon >_>

** The Long Fall **

 

     In Hanzo’s eyes, he had been a wayward brother. In his own view, he was just trying to live authentically.

     Was it so wrong to find no pleasure in fraud, trafficking, and drug dealing? Had it been his error to ignore teachings in the arts of deception, interrogation, and intimidation? Could he have been at fault for refusing to kill someone out of worry for the victim’s wife and children?

     Perhaps in hindsight he had been arrogant to skip lessons and flirt with the cute girls at the ramen shop, or stay out late to immerse into arcades and ignore reality. After all, he had known for years that clan back-chatter consisted of nothing but mantras of kicking him out or getting him to shape up. In fatal hubris he had ignored them. Called them bluffers. Asked for a fight to settle things like a Shimada.

     And now he was running because he was afraid of being taken up on it.

     Despite being an utter failure as a student, he had the wits and talent to keep quiet throughout the guarded armoury, pilfering his personal swords and weaponry before vanishing just as quick. He _needed_ to be quick. And he needed to be unseen.

     He steadied his breath and turned the next corridor to pass an even longer hallway of bedrooms; if he went for the window and through the gardens, there wouldn’t be as much security and he could escape. A part of him wanted to laugh at how ridiculous his circumstances were: a man escaping from his own home. He was sure every sane family on earth would only mock him.

     Was all of this an inevitable consequence of his father’s death? Probably.

     A snapped twig sent him retreating for the dark, wide-eyed and terrified. Did someone hear him? Did they know that he was trying to run already? What would he do? Strike down his cousins? No! He had to avoid worsening matters even further!

     He stifled his anxiety for the sake of stealth, pressing into the shadows and hoping that with enough willpower he could meld into the darkness and fall out of sight. He knew that the Shimada Elders were fond of preparedness; it would be hardly surprising if they had already caught wind of his flight and sent someone to come hunt him down. It could have been anyone that he had known. Maybe even the whole clan had been employed to kill him.

_“That boy is a dangerous liability,” he recalled an uncle Sekihusai remarking with deep contempt hours ago._

_Someone should take care of him,” another added._

_“Elder Sekihusai!” Hanzo’s objection was clear, “I know that Genji has not been acting to your expectations, but to resort to punishment of death? I will not allow my father’s son, and my brother, to die so dishonourably!”_

_“And what do you propose to do, Hanzo? How will you bring honour back to your family name after your brother has sullied it for so long?”_

_“I will convince him, Elder. My brother may be the way he is but he is far from immoral. He is a fitting leader, that merely must be trained accordingly— together we will fill our father’s void, I assure you this!”_

_Genji did not fight the urge to smile as he eavesdropped, hoping sincerely that Hanzo’s well-intentioned words would stay the elders’ hands. He closed his eyes and tried to pray in that one fleeting moment behind the clan meeting room, where a picture of his father sat amongst a nest of incense, that an order would not be made behind Hanzo’s back._

_Such hopes could never exist in House Shimada._

_“Send someone to finish the job,” Sekihusai stated, “Hanzo will be a fitting successor, but only after he has shed that deadweight of a brother.”_

     Genji wanted to heave his breath once the late-night patroller had passed without noticing anything amiss, but he knew better and found no relief in what he had to do next.

     He would have to climb the wall and never look back.

     Without tearful words to his brother, without a proper goodbye to the only family he had left, Genji clambered over the eastern wall of Shimada Castle and disappeared into the empty city of Hanamura. Past the walls he had grown up with, he had to find some kind of peace, right? Could a lost sparrow far from home drift on the wind until he found a new nest? How long would such a journey take? How many more people did he have to abandon to live his life the only way he knew how? He swallowed hard and zipped past peaks and valleys of shingles, the wind rushing by his face and chilling his heated cheeks. It burned just slightly, but it reminded him that what he was experiencing was real and there was no turning back.

     His father’s words from childhood seemed appropriate.

_“The wind is your ally, Genji. Yet it is also a dangerous one; catch your wings in its breath and you will soar like no other, but resist and force your will upon it and you shall be devoured.”_

     In halcyon days long past, he wanted to believe that Hanzo would be the one to follow him. After all, it was always Hanzo that championed and held sacred the key law of the Shimada Clan: protect each other. There was no better time to apply such a law when the elders criticized Genji’s lack of contribution to the clan, and Hanzo had always been the first to speak next to their father.

_“My brother may be young in age and mind but he is as skilled as any other Shimada ninja! He will stay amongst us, lest you call this dragon’s wrath!” with their father looming behind them in silent support, Hanzo had proven time and time again that he would defend his brother to the end._

_No proper brother however was without stern advice._

_It was always after such a dramatic spat that Hanzo would pull his younger sibling aside and they would trespass a private residence several blocks down just to overlook the park (and be far from Uncle Sekihusai’s ramblings)._

_“It isn’t right for you to act so selfishly brother. Think of how hard it is on father to keep hearing so much criticism from the others,” Hanzo’s exasperation had only grown as more years went by, as tensions rose, “father and I want you to succeed. If you keep acting out like this the elders would see you exiled— or worse.”_

_“But what if I…” there was a time when Genji tried to find the words he needed to express._

_“What? Does something trouble you?”_

_“Nothing…” but he lost such needed words just as quickly._

     It seemed to be that the farther and farther Genji travelled away from home, his anxiety was beginning to get the better of him. A large part of him, the very same piece that he _knew_ he had to give up if he wanted to stay alive, was telling him to turn back. He wanted to go home to the only place he knew, to all he had ever known with the only true family that remained. Perhaps with more effort he could change everyone’s opinion on his worth, or with Hanzo’s help maybe even the two of them—

     Steel pressed to his cheek, a warning and a clear gesture that had his assailant not shown mercy, he would be without a head.

     He had been caught like a rabbit in a snare.

     “You never did pay much attention to your flank,” Genji’s bones became rigid at the sound of his brother’s voice.

     “H-Hanzo,” he chided himself for such a flimsy response. He took a chance to turn (albeit gingerly) once Hanzo’s katana had returned to its rightful sheath.

     In truth it should not have been surprising in the slightest that the older Shimada would chase down a potential traitor-fugitive with swords, a bow and arrow, throwing knives, and who knew what else. Always equipped for any situation and always prepared for dragging back wandering siblings.

     “You have five seconds to explain yourself,” Hanzo as well, could always be credited for being terse.

     At least it prompted Genji to be direct.

     “I had to run, brother. They were going to kill me—“

     “They _will_ kill you if you run! Do you want to be hunted and butchered like a rabid dog?”

     Genji lowered his head and a long silence fell between them with no respite from the world outside.

     Hanzo was completely right, what possible rebuttals could there be to running and getting hunted?

     Their silence had only been broken by Hanzo’s exasperated sigh, his aggression retracting and a much gentler address following it, “…don’t do this Genji. The clan would gladly hunt down any man regardless of blood and lineage if he turns his back on them. You know this.”

     Genji’s hands started to tremble.

     He couldn’t go back now. Not after years of rejecting the clan on his own, not after losing his father, not after being threatened. If he returned with his brother, he would only be executed in front of a bloodthirsty audience. He had no proof beyond his own testimony but he knew the consequences of surrender as though he had been born a prophet.

     The chilling breeze urged him to speak.

     “I can’t,” he finally came clean, “I cannot abide to this life any longer. I am not fit to run a criminal empire—“

     “You shame our clan by calling us criminals!”

     “But it is what we _are_! We have engorged ourselves in destruction, in theft, threat…assassination! How much longer do we have to be trapped in this cycle?! All for what? More power? What use does power have if everyone else around us lives in fear?”

     “It is for the welfare of our family, for future generations of our people! Have you not seen what the world has done to us?! We have been abandoned by history—we will continue to be tread upon lest we stand and arm ourselves!”

     “I can’t do this anymore Hanzo!!” his yell reverberated several times into the dark horizon. The entire world could have heard such an impulsive, but ultimately true, declaration.

     And yet the profound sense of loss it had invoked in Hanzo silenced all living things at once; the sheen of moonlight in his irises darkened, then wavered, and then darkened again.

     “You would reject our father…you would abandon your family?” to see such pain in his elder brother’s eyes had made Genji’s chest tighten, “after all we have done for you? After everything that we have given you…?”

     The bitter cold only made it harder to cry.

     An oppressive, inescapable weight began to pulverise Genji from within and he wanted to vomit but opted for lowering his head. When he finally raised his gaze to meet his sibling’s eyes— possibly to attempt an apology that would heal no one— there was only a bitter smile awaiting him.

     In Hanzo’s features there had been a visible crack in composure, a broken hole festering for years that had finally taken shape as a brother betrayed.

     In a single glance, all was clear.

     There was no reconciliation of their opposition to each other: which only meant one thing.

     “You never were very good at hiding your body language…” Hanzo’s words had dulled out against the sharp ring of his katana whistling out of its sheath, “very well. If you will not be swayed by words…”

     “N-no, Hanzo _please_ —“

     “SILENCE, TRAITOR!!”

     Careening steel had filled sleeping Hanamura within an instant.

     Genji barely had enough time to draw his swords and parry Hanzo’s attack, lacking finesse to not leave himself open despite successfully pushing his brother away. Hanzo’s recovery was swift and for the counter, his strikes were with precision and deadly intent. With every clash of tempered metal Genji could feel his resolve slip away, his soul kept screaming for him to fall to his knees and beg for forgiveness, to implore his father for guidance and comfort, and for the trusting hands of his brother to shield him from harm as they had been taught since childhood.

     He wanted normalcy.

     He wanted order and harmony, not a vicious fight on a cold spring night where spatters of blood licked concrete, cuts marring two brothers in mortal combat. Strangled shouts and hate were all that remained to fill a rising rift once held together by family ties.

     “I will drag you back by your broken legs if you force me to,” Hanzo growled, at once throwing aside his composure to become a ferocious beast, “I will not tolerate you tearing this family apart any further!”

     Genji faltered back two steps and raised his blade to meet Hanzo’s finisher, both strikes hacking away triangular segments of their swords. Genji met his brother’s glare with newfound resolve, “Father told us that we must make our own way in life— that it was the true way to honour his name… The name that you and I share, brother! He would never have wanted us to fight!”

     His remark had only been met with more outrage; the clear fury and despair mounting in his brother’s heart destroyed what patience and tolerance that had remained. In a moment the Hanzo that had guided, served, and defended had vanished under a veil of overwhelming grief and ravenous, feral rage.

     “To make our way? You speak of childish delusion!!” their weapons crashed again with a sickening hiss, “our worth is in our service to our family, we honour the family name by keeping it strong! By defending our values and _each other!_ You sully the memory of our parents, of all of the people that have given their lives to us both by abandoning your duty to them!! For too long have I carried your sorry hide for years only to receive your cowardice in return! NO MORE!”

     With only the pathetic intent of warding off his brother for as long as possible, Genji side-stepped another killing strike and released an array of smoke bombs just close enough to cloak his hasty escape but not within Hanzo’s proximity to cause significant harm. The fleeing fugitive knew however that despite best intentions, such a meagre gesture would only incite stronger wrath from an enraged Shimada.

     Once he had realized what had happened Hanzo immediately gave chase across the rooftops of an insignificant Hanamura residential district, unafraid and unrelenting in his pursuit of a sibling that threatened to tear apart the order he upheld and the family he swore allegiance to.

     Running for his life, Genji had only become more aware of what he had been at fault for; he knew that for his arrogance and stubbornness the true consequence of his actions, even if he did manage to escape, would be the loss of the only person that still cared for him. It was a betrayal that had to be done. Family had been the cause of his problems, and complete separation from that family was the only true solution.

_Wasn’t it?_

     He shot down a fire escape ladder and felt his arms almost give way from the cuts he had been sustaining in their last spat, Hanzo only meters away. Their chase had bounded halfway across downtown, traveling up and down some of the lowest and tallest buildings of Hanamura until Genji had finally slid to a stop.

     Atop an apartment complex fifteen storeys tall, there was no building he could reach that didn’t require a crippling jump. Genji was cornered. The wind bit him as a cruel reminder that he could not simply open his eyes and wake up, forcing him to pivot and watch Hanzo’s glimmering blade shine in the dark.

     “Brother…” Genji inhaled sharply to steel himself, his swords primed and ready as they circled each other for what seemed like the last time, “I walk this path on my own volition. I had hoped that…you would do the same. That perhaps years from now we could find each other again, and speak as brothers with the past behind us—“

     “ _I have no brother.”_

     Genji’s mouth ran dry as Hanzo continued.

     “I see a child that would rather turn tail and run than stay with his own family, that would cast aside loyalty to blood for his own gain,” merely an approaching silhouette armed with a chipped blade, Hanzo’s fury had become insurmountable as he came into the light and charged, “a fool that would betray his father…that would betray ME!!”

     His call echoed several times over into a sky without clouds.

     All had become silent.

     It was hard to tell for either of them how their lives had gone so awry. When did their relationship descend? Was it as quick as they wanted to believe it was? Or had it been a slow, festering rot over many years? The sword jutting out of Genji’s body like a broken spear in a battered animal felt as though it had materialized there. Planted by accident. A misguided burst of rage that had expected a counterattack.

     And yet to Hanzo’s bewildered terror, his katana had slid so easily out of Genji’s chest as if it were a knife in melted butter. He reached out in a daze, the distant clamour of a clattering, bloodied sword on concrete hardly there.

     “Hanzo…?” blood dribbled down Genji’s rounded chin, his teeth stained an awful red while he weakly reached out like a lost child, “H-han…zo…?”

     What was happening?

     Were they really on a rooftop in the middle of the night? Was Genji actually stabbed? Was Genji standing at the edge with wobbling legs, delirious and in shock?

     At once, Hanzo’s conscience began to scream.

_Don’t fall back Genji. Don’t fall back Genji…_

     Over and over Hanzo’s inner voice rose in volume, his heart seizing in his chest as he reached until he felt his shoulder nearly dislocate. His mind rioted against itself, the anger and hatred that had blinded him twisting in meaning and falling apart like shattered glass. His eyes were hazy and he could not breathe, he could only hear the numbing roar of his own thoughts.

_Don’t fall back Genji…Genji! Don’t fall!!_

**_DON’T FALL!!!_ **

     It was still so quiet. How could there be nothing hanging in the air? There were no birds chirping for mating season, no delinquent children running past curfew, no dull hum of electricity surging through homes; only a simple, all-consuming nothingness.

     Lone tufts of mist trembled like tiny waves in the wind, his quivering breath and outstretched hand frozen in time.

     There was no one there to hear him.

     And there was no one there to reach for.

     Hanzo’s eyes were the first to move just slightly, darting to his hands, which were the next to regain motion. His scarred and calloused palms were clean and yet he could not pull his gaze from them, from the truth that had settled deep into his soul.

     “What…have I…done…?” the glittering sword caked in fresh blood stared into him, a haunting mirror and an eternal reminder for the rest of his days.

     His legs lost strength and he could no longer stand; his knees collided into the concrete as though the emotions he could not comprehend bound his limbs and locked him in a guillotine. Panic spun in his mind until disgust had wrung out his throat, rendering his lungs without breath. Anger clawed his heart to pieces while anguish seared his blood to ash, leaving naught a drop of reason in his veins. His fingers dug into his shoulders and his spine coiled inward while he trembled and shivered in the dark, writhing in desperation for freedom from such oppressive silence. His responsibilities weighed heavier and heavier until he felt his nerves crumble, the pressure of his crimes tearing through the last shreds of his sanity until at last— _at last—_ his voice had finally erupted in a harrowing roar of regret and despair.

           


End file.
